


Won't you?

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [85]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Poetry, F/M, idefk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s like a weight has been lifted from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won't you?

It’s like a weight has been lifted from him.

Not from his shoulders.

…. his arms are lighter. Arm. The right one. The skin is smooth and unblemished now and a weight has been lifted from him. So he smiles. And he tells his brother.

It’s Good.

Because the weight of that Mark is gone. Only…

… he is unmoored.

He feels lighter without it, but sometimes he’s too light. He feels like he might float away. Like he doesn’t know -

\- who he is without it anymore.

(sometimes he still sees black eyes in the mirror)

And he doesn’t want to unravel. Come loose. Because everything has been shifted. Just. A. Little. And it should all be back to normal now.

Shouldn’t it?

Only. When he sees her. In a cloud of smoke. In a field. In a fever dream. He doesn’t really know where. When he sees her.

He feels -

\- complete.

There’s something in her presence that calls to him. Siren song, saccharine sweet. She immobilizes him. Or maybe. He just doesn’t want to move. There’s something in her.

In her existence -

\- it’s power.

When she cradles his face and holds him close to the burning heat, the churning chaos she cannot contain. When she tells him.

_Let’s tear it all apart. Destroy it all with me…._

And what he hears is a rumble of power that sinks down in to his bones and it feels. Oh. So. Right. There. It feels complete. Anchored. When she says…

_… for me._

He thinks. Yes. Yes I will.

With you.

(for you)

And she calls to him with that raging unbridled storm of power that feels like what he’s been missing. It’s a foggy haze, fever dream, swirling in his veins so sweet and he’s not too sure. About where he is.

About who he is.

But this. He feels this and her hands hold his face so tenderly and her lips touch so gently even if it’s laced with an ancient knowing that’s voracious in it’s appetite. He is thralled to her. Captive.

Because she’ll hold him down.

He knows, in her hold, he won’t float away unmoored and feather light just dust in the wind. She will keep him. She will know him. She will use him until he is burned away.

Pressing his lips to hers, drawn inevitably and irrevocably into her orbit. He thinks.

Yes.

_Won’t you? Dean?_


End file.
